


Running From Werewolves is a Full Time Job

by glitterandlube



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:57:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterandlube/pseuds/glitterandlube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hangs out with Allison and Lydia before spending some time on his back with Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running From Werewolves is a Full Time Job

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by omens. Vague harassment into this fandom by omens. Hand holding by omens. 
> 
> Stiles is underage in this fiction and it has knotting in it. You know if these are things you enjoy or gag over. 
> 
> I have not written much in a long time, but I am trying really hard for this fandom, because it's awesome, and I think it deserves way more fic than it has, and am trying to contribute to that number. Hopefully this is entertaining. I got to use the word mount in a totally serious manner. There will be another chapterish thing. Later.

**Run, Stiles, Run.**

Allison and Lydia drag Stiles to the mall because Allison isn’t allowed to see Scott and figures annoying his best friend isn’t even a close second, but she's doing it anyway. They can talk about Scott and that is acceptable. 

The first store they stop in front of contains sixteen neon signs and possibly a smoke machine. The music is set way past eleven and Stiles recoils in horror at the thumping bass and starts making plans to escape via a run through the nearby fountain. He keeps forgetting to ask Scott if he can still smell him if he wades through a creek, but he figures it can’t hurt. 

Stiles asks, "Is there a bouncer for this place? I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed in here with the pretty people." He turns to try and make a break for it but Allison rolls her eyes and firmly drags him into the store as he continues to protest. 

"I'm going to buy you something that isn't plaid," Alison explains. 

Lydia says, “Then we’re going to _burn_ all the plaid.” 

"What's wrong with plaid?” Stiles asks. “Lesbians everywhere stand by it, and if it's good enough for a lesbian..." 

"I'm armed." Allison threatens. Mildly, because it’s Allison, but Stiles understands. "I'm armed and you will do as I say."

"I can’t lie,” Stiles says, “I'm a little interested in where this might be going but Scott is my best friend and I feel very strongly about the importance of not fucking over my best friend. Also,” he continues, “he can claw off my face and I don't want to be one of those people that have to get a face transplant because those are so creepy and strange looking. Every time I see someone with a face transplant I think of that dude from Men in Black, you know, where the bug put on the dude's skin? That was pretty cool but I've kind of been freaked out by Vincent D'onofrio since then because he sort of looks like he has a bug living under his skin that eats babies."

Lydia is looking at Stiles like he’s a bug that eats babies, so Allison intervenes by handing Stiles a few shirts and saying, "Try them on." 

He takes them reluctantly and asks, "Where's the changing room?"

"There isn't one. You just try stuff on out here," Lydia says. “Public nudity is in.” 

"I don't strip in public!” Stiles says, despairing. “I'm not Scott. Or Derek. Or Jackson. Okay, I'm not everyone we know. Why am I friends with you people again?”

"Suck it up, Stiles," Lydia orders, dismissing his concerns. "Try them on."

"Not for a million dollars," he replies firmly. "I have an idea, though." 

Stiles ducks into one of the racks and bangs around for a minute before emerging in a tight white sweater that looks awful on him. He adds a scarf and some douche sunglasses and says, "I feel like a new man already."

Lydia narrows her eyes because she knows who he’s mocking and she says in that sweet-vicious way she has, "I'm surprised you're not more eager to impress him." 

"Him, who?" Stiles asks. He’s fiddling with the scarf. It’s itchy and he doesn’t understand why people wear this crap on purpose. On the other hand, how do you wear clothes by accident? 

"Derek,” Lydia says. Allison looks way too amused.

"Why would I want to impress Derek?" Stiles asks. “He’s never impressed by anything anyway.” 

"Well, because he's right behind you," Lydia says with a smirk.

"What!" Stiles shrieks, trying to fling everything off him into the furthest reaches of space. He turns around and says, "Ah, ha, hey, he's not here. You tricked me."

"Yes, I did,” Lydia agrees, triumphant. “And now that you're shirtless you can try on these shirts without complaint." 

Stiles covers his chest and says, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with Allison seeing my nipples."

Lydia laughs and reaches out and squeezes one. Stiles' eyes get extra wide and he yells, "Sexual assault! By which I mean: I am okay with in this situation, but ..we’re in public?” 

One of the ultra cool salespeople appears by magic. Stiles jumps and says, "But Derek says vampires don't exist," as Allison leans past him and says, "We're fine; he's very excitable and he didn't take his speed this morning. "

"It's not speed," Stiles lies. "But wait, while you're here: am I attractive to gay guys?"

The man looks him over and says, "No."

"That's hurtful," Stiles says to the retreating vampire. "Extremely hurtful! And after I let you look at my nipples!"

Allison pats his shoulder and says, "I wouldn't let his opinion bother you since your boyfriend is a thousand times hotter." 

“Derek is even hotter than Jackson,” Lydia admits.

Stiles makes a face at her mentioning Jackson and says, "For the fiftieth time, Derek is not my boyfriend. Also, Jackson is gross."

Lydia says, “He told me you said he was pretty.”

Stiles leans against the racks and says, “Utter lies.” 

Lydia just smirks at him and says, "You go out on _dates_ with Derek.” 

"We don't go on dates,” Stiles denies. “Driving his ass around so we can play Rescue Heroes Hour is not dating."

“You want them to be dates,” Lydia taunts, fingering a leather jacket in a way that makes Stiles feel awkward. 

"The part where you spend hours talking in the car before you rescue people makes it a date," Allison says. She’s trying to be nice about it; nice but firm. 

"No. Dates involve money being spent and then thinly veiled harassment that money being spent implies people being required to put out," Stiles explains. “I read about it in a book called ‘Don’t Touch Me or I’ll Cry.’”

Lydia unleashes a terrifying grin and Stiles says, "No; the answer is no. Whatever it is, no. I don't care that I owe you for actually coming to the dance with me; the answer is no. Also, I’m thinking that Allison must have blackmailed you somehow because she is _magic_.” 

"I wasn't going to ask you to do anything," Lydia says sullenly. “I just liked the part about making you cry.” 

Lydia reaches out for him again but Stiles dodges behind one of the displays and stage whispers, “Allison! Save me from her!” 

“Both of you stop it right now. We’re buying Stiles clothes so he can look nice,” Allison says, and looks at Lydia. “You agreed, so behave.”

“Fine,” Lydia says. She walks over to a different part of the store to stare in disdain at the displays. She does disdain even better than the vampire salespeople. 

"Great. It’s so fantastic to hear you order her around," Stiles says as he pulls on one of the shirts. It's a light blue and kind of tight, and it looks pretty good on him. 

Allison nods, all business, and says, "We’re definitely taking that one. Now this one."

Stiles tries on five shirts and helpfully points out that he has no money. Allison smiles again, dimples flashing, and says, "Luckily my parents have plenty of money, and wouldn't you know it, they're totally screwing me off right now, and I feel heavily invested in revenge."

"I support revenge,” Stiles says. “Maybe we should form a club. Your grandfather said I needed more extracurricular activities. Can I mention how creepy it is that your grandfather is our new principal? I just need to say that a few thousand more times.” 

“I’m interested in a revenge club,” Lydia says, rejoining them. “I’m president. No arguments.” 

Stiles and Allison look at each other and say, “No problem.” 

“I’m sure Mr. Harris will be happy to be the club sponsor since he’s such a dickbag,” Stiles adds. “It’s perfect.” He’s still slouching against one of the racks, secretly hoping that he’ll infect all the clothes and tomorrow when the vampires come in, everything will be plaid and they’ll have to commit suicide in despair. [Stiles the Vampire Slayer!]

“He would be perfect,” Allison agrees. “But Stiles, please don't mention my grandfather to me for at least an entire year." 

“That’s fair,” Stiles says. “If Derek accidentally kills him, are you going to be super pissed?”

“The jury’s still out on that one,” Allison says. She looks a little scary when she says it. 

“You know, you’re looking kind of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker there,” Stiles says. “It’s sort of awesome.”

“What did you just say? Wendy the what?” Lydia asks, looking over at them. She’s still moving around the store and silently judging it as she’s trailed by a sad sales clerk who has clearly seen his better and is in mourning. 

“It’s from a comic. It’s that universe’s version of Buffy. Instead of vampire slayer, she’s a werewolf stalker.” They both stare at him, and he says defensively, “It’s related to the topic at hand!”

“Sure,” Allison says and pays for the shirts. She tries to hand him the bag.

"Since you're being the boyfriend here, shouldn't you carry the bag?" Stiles asks. She hits him with it and he gives in gracefully and takes it. "Thank you." Stiles says. “I’ve always wanted a pretty lady to give me gifts.” 

"You're welcome," Allison says. She grins at him, all dimples again. 

Stiles wants to hug her in a completely platonic way and ask her to marry Scott’s stupid ass but Lydia ruins his moment of potential bonding by saying, "You should wear the blue one the next time we see Derek. It’ll encourage him to take his pants off for you.” 

"Stop bringing up Derek for the love of...oh my god, and Derek is standing right in front of me. How awkward. Hi, Derek," Stiles says, before turning to Allison and saying, "Waiiiit a minute, I know Lydia is here with us, but we're hanging out and you spent money on me. Does that mean I have to put out? Because I was serious about not doing that to Scott. Also, I don't think I really have his stamina. Not that I don't have _stamina_ , but I'm not, you know, I’m not..." Stiles waves his hand at Derek. 

"I really want to slam you against a wall right now," Derek says, looking around for a convenient wall but thankfully they’re in the middle of one of the courtyards. Safe!

"Is that why you think...?" Stiles asks Lydia.

"Or your reaction is hilarious and I’m very bored," she replies.

"That's fair. I'd fuck with me about it, too," Stiles muses. "Derek, if I run through the water fountain, can you still smell me? I’ve read that water can dilute a dog’s sense of smell and I wanted to know if that works with werewolves." He gives Derek a bright smile. 

Derek stares at Stiles and says, "I'm dissolving my pack and starting over; clearly, I have made a huge mistake."

"I think it's a little late for that,” Stiles says, reaching out to pat Derek’s shoulder and then thinking better of it. “You’ve already stuck your fangs in way too many people."

Lydia interrupts them to say, "I got you a present, Derek."

Derek turns look at her and she says, "His mouth is always open because he wants your dick in it,” and shoves Stiles right into him.

Stiles gapes at her and says, "Are you trying to get me killed? What did I even do to you?" as he takes another quick step away from Derek.

“I’m doing this for the good of us all,” Lydia says. “Just fuck already because I'm frustrated and someone should be having fun right now if I’m not."

Stiles opens his mouth but Derek slaps his hand over it and says, "Scott is home alone right now. You should go see sneak in and see him, Allison. Lydia, go with her as plausible deniability."

Allison smiles at Stiles and says, "I'll see you guys later," as she walks towards the exit with Lydia, who is laughing. 

"She brought me here,” Stiles says. He looks at Derek, in his leather jacket and really flattering jeans. Stiles tries very hard to look anywhere else but his eyes aren’t moving. He tries moving his face instead but his eyes are totally betraying him. 

Derek watches his antics for a minute before offering to take Stiles home. He takes the bag Stiles is holding and pulls out one of the shirts. "These are a lot nicer than your usual stuff. Did the girls pick them out?" 

"Yes," Stiles says. "I'm sorry that not all of us can wear clothes like you but I like how I dress.” 

“I said they were nicer,” Derek shrugs. “I didn’t say I thought you looked like a hobo. I’d go more with circus clown.”

“Haha,” Stiles says. “I have a thought. I think we should all chip in and get Lydia a new vibrator. She’s starting to reach that ‘I’m gonna claw your eyes out’ point.” 

“Do you find her scarier than me?” Derek asks curiously. 

“I’m terrified of everyone I have a crush on,” Stiles says, answering without thinking, and then backtracks. “Wait. I meant something else there. Like, I am terrified of everyone who is scary. Such as yourself. Yes.”

Derek's eyebrows move. 

“Can we just go before I throw myself in the fountain out of desperation?” Stiles pleads. 

Derek actually smiles at him so Stiles blurts out, “Do you think they make werewolf themed vibrators? I mean they make a lot of dolphin ones? And rabbits? I wonder if they can make one that knots. That would be strange. Um, please make me stop talking right now or stop moving closer to me before I have a panic attack.” 

“For once I’m okay with you talking, so you should take advantage of that.” 

“No, I think I should stop talking and not mention sex toys ever again.” 

“I saw what you have in your bottom drawer,” Derek mentions as he moves a little closer, watching Stiles. 

Stiles starts laughing hysterically. "I forgot about that. Sorry, man."

“It doesn’t bother me,” Derek says. “You smell good.”

“Do I?” Stiles says in a high pitched tone. “That’s good to hear.” 

“Do you think about me when you use it?” Derek asks and Stiles... Stiles flat out _runs the hell away._

“And now I get to chase you,” Derek says contentedly. He takes off after Stiles, who is full out sprinting down the center of the concourse trying to avoid knocking anyone over. Ten minutes later mall security is involved and Stiles has to fling himself outside to avoid them. He runs right into Derek who says, “Took you long enough.”

“Gah!” Stiles yelps and leans over to catch his breath. “You just chased me through the mall!” 

“You ran away from a werewolf,” Derek points out calmly. “I’m not sure what you were expecting to happen.”

“Can you just take me home now?”

“Is your dad there?”

“Yes,” Stiles says.

“Lying,” Derek says back. Werewolves.

Stiles fidgets until Derek puts his arms around him and says, “Stiles, the past several years of my life have really sucked.”

Stiles nods; they have really sucked. ‘Sucked’ is not a strong enough word. 

“Can’t I just have something nice?” Derek asks. 

Stiles’ voice shakes as he asks, “On what planet do I qualify as something nice?” 

“This one,” Derek replies and leans over to kiss him in front of two kids who gawk at two guys kissing. 

“Hey! My children are right here!” their mother snaps. “Stop that filth!”

Derek pulls away and growls at her until she grabs her kids’ hands and hurries away.

“Is that what you do in your spare time?” Stiles asks. “Mess with fundamentalists and bigots?”

Derek is still glaring after the woman and concedes. “It might be something I fit into my schedule.” 

“I’m going to take you home now,” Derek says, attention back on Stiles. He leans down and mouths at Stiles’ jaw before starting to kiss his neck. 

“Okay.” 

“And then we’re going to go upstairs,” Derek says as he directs Stiles toward his car. 

“Sure.”

“I’m going to spend an hour taking you apart.” 

“That won’t take an hour,” Stiles says. This he knows for sure.

“Then I’m going to bury myself so deeply in you, you’ll never want anything else,” Derek says, and buries his face in Stiles’ neck. “I’m never going to let you go.”

“You can fuck me right here in the parking lot if you really need to,” Stiles says.  


Derek laughs and the sound makes Stiles want to run a victory lap, but he’s busy having his neck sucked on, so: _priorities_. He also knows that they need to get in the car before Derek really does just rut on him in the parking lot. He’ll end up getting arrested and Stiles will have to stage yet another prison breakout. The last one went badly enough that they all agreed to try extra hard to avoid arrest so that they wouldn’t have go through that again. Luckily, Derek is parked in the aisle he’s been slowly guiding Stiles down and he manages to get the car door open even with Stiles hanging off of him and babbling about Derek’s mouth. 

He shoves Stiles into the back seat and climbs in after him. Stiles barely lets him close the door before he latches onto his mouth. They kiss frantically as Derek shoves the seats forward to get some maneuverability. It’s cramped and Stiles’ leg is half under the seat but he can’t stop kissing Derek long enough to care. 

When they finally pause to breathe, Derek says, “House. Bed. You in the bed.”

“Fuck me right here,” Stiles argues and Derek growls. His eyes are glowing red and he’s panting. Stiles pulls him back down. Derek gets Stiles’ pants open and he shoves his hand down them to stroke Stiles’ dick. Stiles smacks at the back seat as he tries to thrust up into Derek’s hand and Derek bites his neck to get him to hold still. It has the opposite effect. Stiles shoves up desperately and comes all over Derek’s hand and on his shirt. Derek pulls his hand out and licks his fingers off as Stiles makes whimpering noises. 

Derek looks at him as he pops his last finger out of his mouth. Stiles feels _wrecked_ and Derek looks pretty smug. He kisses Stiles’ hand and then his face, and licks at his neck. Stiles grabs Derek’s dick and says, “I believe you made me a promise.” Derek rips a hole in his upholstery.

They both look at his claws and then at each other. Stiles says, “Can you drive without crashing into a tree?”

“Yes,” Derek says, “There is no way a fucking tree is going to stop me from finally getting to pin you down and mount you.” 

Stiles says, “Mount?” 

“Quiet,” Derek commands. “I have to focus.”

The trip home is a very short and very terrifying experience for Stiles, but it helps him get some focus back. Derek, on the other hand, is starting to look like he wants to break everything in sight. Stiles is hoping that this does not include him. Stiles gets out of the car after he straightens up enough that no one will notice how debauched he looks, and Derek follows him into the house. Stiles hopes none of the neighbors are seeing this. Isaac comes down the stairs as Stiles opens the door and he flinches when he sees Derek right behind Stiles, shoving him through the doorway. 

“No, it’s fine!” Stiles soothes. “It’s the okay kind of shoving! Wait; that’s horrible.”

Isaac starts sniffing involuntarily and Derek orders Isaac over. He shoves twenty dollars at him and says, “Go away. Out of the house. For hours. Right now.” 

Stiles says, “Wait a minute, he doesn’t need to...” but Derek cuts him off to say, “RIGHT NOW, ISAAC.”

Isaac flees out the door.

“That was extra classy,” Stiles says, throwing up his hands.

“Run.”

“What?” Stiles says. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Derek’s eyes flash and he growls. “Run, Stiles.” 

Stiles takes off up the stairs and he makes it to his bedroom a split second before Derek grabs him, tosses him on the bed and crawls up on top of him. Derek spends the next half hour memorizing every inch of Stiles’ body with his fingers and his tongue and his nose. Stiles is a wrung out mess and begging incoherently as Derek pushes two fingers in and out of him. When he twists them, Stiles archs up off the bed and pleads, “Now. Right now.” 

Derek grins up at Stiles and says, “I said an hour.”

Stiles drags Derek up by his hair and says more clearly, “I. Said. Fuck. Me. Right. Now.”

Derek gives him a wicked grin before he spreads Stiles’ thighs wider and lines himself up, pushing in slowly as Stiles tries to catch his breath. He’s watching Derek’s face change as he inches into his ass, as he glances down to watch himself sliding in. Derek groans but stops with what looks like a lot of effort when Stiles says, “Hurts.” 

“No,” Stiles amends. “I want it.” 

Derek shoves the rest of the way in as he stares into Stiles’ eyes and pulls back out shallowly before thrusting back in. Stiles digs his fingernails into Derek’s arms and fights to keep his eyes open so that he can watch Derek’s face as he moves in him. Derek shifts so he keeps hitting the right spot and Stiles gets louder and louder as Derek fucks into him. After twenty minutes, Stiles is cursing Derek and the entire planet, and praising Derek’s dick and general personhood until Derek groans and rasps out, “I should mention...”

“Huh?” Stiles says. “No, like that, right there, right there, do that. More.”

“Do you remember...” Derek asks, but stops. He’s having trouble speaking. “You mentioned knotting earlier?” 

Stiles blinks and tries to focus, “Uhhh. Yeah. That was a joke. Why are you bringing this up now?”

“It’s going to happen kind of soon.”

Stiles makes a vaguely freaked out noise, but Derek shoves in hard and deep, hitting inside him exactly right and Stiles comes so hard his brain whites out a little bit and he can barely even feel it expanding before Derek comes inside of him and stops moving, panting against Stiles’ neck. 

“So, we just wait?” Stiles asks. 

“It’s for breeding,” Derek mumbles. “You have to give it a few minutes.” 

“I know what it’s for,” Stiles says. “You know breeding is what they call it in gay porn when you come in someone instead of on them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Derek says. “I plan on doing it a lot.”

Stiles is petting Derek’s back as the knot starts to go down. Derek shifts around and pulls out as Stiles hisses. Derek kisses him in apology and keeps kissing him as he slides his fingers into Stiles’ come-slick hole to make sure that he’s okay. Stiles bites Derek’s tongue and Derek pulls away to grin at him. Stiles touches his face and says, “I like you smiling.”

“I guess you’ll have to make me smile more often, then,” Derek says as he goes back to Stiles’ neck again. 

“I can totally work on that,” Stiles promises. Derek settles down next to him on the bed, and they stare at each other until Stiles sleepily mumbles, “Go find Isaac and make sure no one shot him.” 

Derek kisses Stiles on the forehead and says, “I’ll leave when you fall asleep.”


End file.
